


Scott is Good at Ping Pong

by RedLlamas



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 1940s slang, Bisexual Character, Civil War Team Captain America, Clint Barton's Farm, Episode: s09e24 The One in Barbados Part 2, F/F, Flirting, Friends (1994), Gen, Good Dad Clint, Implied/Referenced Sex, Laura and Clint are siblings, M/M, Ping-Pong, Riding, Sex Is Fun, Shameless Smut, Team Bonding, WhatsApp groupchat, by that I mean that everyone in this is bi thanks for coming to my TedTalk, handjobs, this entire fic was an excuse to write about that Paul Rudd was in Friends and in the MCU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-03 19:42:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13348182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedLlamas/pseuds/RedLlamas
Summary: Scott has a major crush on Captain America, and he managed to be on his team. Things are looking up for Scott Lang! So are ... other things ... ;)





	Scott is Good at Ping Pong

**Author's Note:**

> It took me like a year to realize that Mike from _Friends_ and Scott Lang from _Ant-Man_ are the same guy – Paul Rudd  
>  It took me like a month to crank this out

Scott met Captain America. He met Captain freaking America. And Captain America wanted him to fight on his side. His side!! Holy crap.

When they shook hands, Scott felt all tingly and electric. He hadn’t reacted like this to someone since college, and boy, were those fun days. He stared into those ocean blue eyes, and couldn’t believe that Captain America met his stare.

His handshake was very enthusiastic, he figures it was a bit too much.

“Captain America!”

“Mr. Lang.”

“It’s an honor.” He looked down and back up. “I’m shaking your hand too long.” Captain America nodded, so he let go. Scott turned to the witch, saying, “Captain America. I know you, too. You’re great!” He turned back to Captain America, and figuring he couldn’t be more bisexual, quickly squeezed his arms and said, “Jeez. Uh, I just want to say that, I know you know a lot of super people, so … thinks for thanking of me.” Captain America nodded graciously. Captain America then warned him about becoming a fugitive, but Scott nodded along. He’s been here before, he’s known this tune.

During the fight, Scott embarrassed himself by throwing a gas truck instead of a water truck, then he regained his honor by “hacking” into Stark’s suit then blowing up and kicking ass in the major leagues. It felt good to be this good.

What did not feel good was getting his ass kicked by the spider guy. He ripped that tactic from Star Wars, he knows a nerd when he sees one, he saw that movie when it came out (he’s 48 for God’s sake). Scott was then captured by Team Stark, which went against everything Hank had taught him. Number One: use the suit for good. Number Two: never trust a Stark. Number Three: if you puke in the helmet, you clean the helmet.

There he was, detained in the Raft prison, looking like a Tron reject. Seriously, this uniform is ugly as hell. He looks like a cyber nurse.

He thought he was being cool and smart by making a jab at Tony Stark, but alas, no one but Clint and Sam actually knows him.

While they were rotting there, Scott tried to pass the time by making jokes, sharing stories, playing games, making music. Clint and Sam didn't really share with him, but Wanda did. She was nice, she tried to keep a positive mind, but she was depressed as hell, and Scott didn't blame her. She was so young, and so brave, but so small. They had her in a suit with a collar. He let her rest while he racked his brain for more jokes.

Captain America – Steve, he was told – broke in to bust them all out of there. He looked like a prince in weathered armour, and by God, did he look fine. Steve said they were going to lay low for a while, and that they’d do so on Clint’s farm. Scott was alright with that, but they had to make a pitstop first. Steve’s friend, Bucky, needed a place to stay, so they went to Wakanda seeking asylum for him. Once the King conceded to that, they headed out to Clint’s farm. It was nice, cozy. Clint’s sister Laura was very kind to them, and her kids were fantastic, they reminded Scott of Cassie.

Cassie.

Man.

Scott was sitting out on the porch one day when Clint came to sit by him. He had beers in hand and handed one to Scott, drinking his. Scott took a drink and sighed.

“What's up, man?” Scott asked.

Clint shrugged. “Not much. Came here to see why you're so bummed.”

“I'm not bummed,” Scott retorted, glumly.

“You couldn't stop jabbering in prison, what's got you clammed up?”

Scott looked over at Clint. “Your sister’s kids remind me of my kid. I remembered that I promised to go straight, not get into any trouble. But here I am, on the run from a guy in an armored suit because he had a fight with his friend.”

Clint quietly chuckled, and clapped him on the shoulder. “Cheer up, Tic Tac, you'll go straight again, someday. For now, you gotta help me cover several acres, alright?”

Scott nodded. “Alright.”

They set their beers aside and got to work.

At the end of the day, Scott couldn't feel his legs. Or his arms. He thinks he might actually be feeling them too much. He was groaning in despair on the couch, and crying just a little bit. Wanda laughed at him.

“I wouldn’t be laughing so hard right now,” Laura said, walking by with a laundry basket. “Tomorrow, you’ll be helping me out with the other several acres.”

That got to shut Wanda up, which was all right with Scott. Steve placed several ice packs all over his body, and Scott could have cried from happiness.

Scott wasn’t laughing anymore from where he was propped up in Laura’s truck. Scott had wanted to come with, so Laura had put some pillows in the back and, with the help of Steve’s strong arms, placed Scott on it. He wanted to gloat, and by God he will.

Clint wanted to come along as well, so Sam and he got on horses and rode out with them. The whole gang was there, at the edge of the rest of the acres the Barton siblings had to cover. Wanda stood at the edge, looked back at Laura and the boys, and began using her magic to clear out the fields. She started out small, collecting row by row, then chain by chain, and eventually furlong by furlong. She danced, eyes closed, collecting all the corn she could see. She was in a total state of flow, moving her hands to grab the corn and stack them up in neat bundles beside her. She walked slowly forwards, the corn following her. It looked straight out of the Bible.

She completed the land for the day. Once the land was done, she turned around to look at her friends. Laura was ecstatic, Clint had his jaw dropped, and Steve began to clap. They all started to clap. Clint got down from his horse, and he and Laura ran to Wanda and hugged her tight. They let go and Laura held her hands, exclaiming, “Wanda, I can’t believe it! You cleared the field in a half hour! It takes us the whole day to finish it!”

“Wanda, look at the perfection of bundles. Unbelievable,” Clint said as he pulled them to the nearest bundle of corn. Wanda smiled and giggled at their reactions.

From the truck, Scott pouted. He had worked so hard yesterday, his body still hurt him, and here was Wanda, collecting the crop in half an hour. With her magic. Unbelievable.

Steve looked over at him and clapped him on the back, earning a groan of misery from Scott. “Lighten up, she did well, and so did you, man.”

“Easy for you to say,” Scott re-accommodated himself on the pillows. “You didn’t have to plough the field with Clint yesterday.”

Steve laughed at that. He sat by Scott, and asked him, “You ploughed the field? With Clint?”

Scott couldn't help himself. He wiggled his eyebrows at Steve. “Why, you jealous?”

Steve looked confused for a moment. “Why would I be … ohh. Oh.”

“You want to plough the field with me?” Scott asked, going for a comically sensual angle. Steve looked away, laughing despite himself, ears turning red. Scott saw that, and was internally screaming that he made Steve smile _and_ blush. Holy crap. He’s got to keep the ball going.

Thankfully, Sam had gone to join the siblings and Wanda. Scott sat up with tremendous effort, and lightly stroked Steve’s arm. “You want to plough _my_ field?”

Steve looked at him, surprise and alarm apparent in his eyes, but. In a good way. “You have a plow?”

“We can borrow one.”

Steve nodded, raising his eyebrows. “Well, you’re too sore for any more plowing, aren’t you?”

“Why, Mr. Rogers! How thoughtful of you!”

Steve laughed. “If you’re too soft for plows, we could always fondue.”

Scott had no idea what fondue meant, but it sounded sexual, so he was down for that. He raised his own eyebrows. “Fondue?”

Steve nodded, asking, “Have you ever eaten fondue before?”

“No, have you?” Is eating fondue forties slang? Or is Steve actually coming on to him?

“Really?” Steve had a shine to his eyes. Definitely coming on to him. Steve slid closer, and sat on Scott’s lap, continuing, “I’ve heard it’s delicious.” He ran a hand through Scott’s hair.

Scott couldn’t breathe. His little gay ass is panicking, because he might get laid, but he could possibly not get laid as well. “You want to try some?” he asked, mouth dry. He tentatively placed a hand on Steve’s hip. Steve smiled at that, but decided to slide away so that they were sitting side by side. Steve had seen someone approaching, and when Scott looked over to the field, he saw Sam riding back up on his horse with the farmers in tow. Laura was excitedly talking with Wanda, and Clint ruffled her hair. Fuck.

“I guess we won’t be eating any today,” Scott lamented. Steve laughed.

Wanda piled back in the truck and Laura drove them back home, the Birds following them.

Team Cap stayed for another week before deciding to get out of Laura’s hair. They figured they were getting on her nerves, as she kept getting antsier. Steve asked for a new place to hide out in, and Wanda came up with the splendid idea of Barbados. Team Cap cleaned the house and did all the chores they could before they left, thanking Laura for letting them stay for so long.

Barbados was exquisite. They checked into a hotel, which was hosting a paleontology convention, which meant hors d'oeuvres. Sam and Clint spent much of their time on the beach sunbathing, and Wanda met and made lots of paleontologist friends, but her hair poofed up with the humidity. Steve snuck food out of the conferences, and Scott, well, he ran into an old ex after a decade of no contact. It wasn't as awkward as he thought it was going to be. She had gotten married, he had gotten married. She had two kids, he had one. She'd gotten divorced, so did he. She's the founder of a youth center. He works for Stark Industries.

“Wow, you work for Stark? Have you ever met him?”

Scott nodded, taking a sip of a mojito. “Yeah, I got to meet him, but it wasn't under ideal circumstances.”

“Oh, what happened?”

“See, Stark has this friend, right? They go way back. So something happened in the company that his friend was against. He called a conference to discuss it with Stark’s team, but it ended up in a fist fight.”

“Holy shit, did you get hurt?”

Scott shrugged. “Yeah, couple of bruises. I personally got jacked by Stark.”

Lisa couldn't believe it. They spent the rest of the evening catching up. It was nice. He'd missed having normal friends. He missed Luis. He missed Cassie.

Shit.

One day, Clint invites him to play in the rec center. Wanda was there, mastering pinball, making everyone else wallow in shame. Clint and he play foosball for a while, until Steve came bustling in with a platter of food in his hands.

“Guys, you better eat this quick before they find me,” he said.

They all agreed that food was important and it should be eaten before it be taken away. Once that was taken care of, Steve hid the platter behind a potted plant. When he came back from hiding it, Scott saw a ping pong table and nudged Wanda. “Hey, you ever played ping pong?”

“Of course, why?” She followed him to the ping pong table, standing at one end of it while Scott stood at the other.

“Would you want to play?” Scott asked, already passing her a racket and getting a ball ready.

“Oh yes, I would love to play!” She tied her hair back, giving her an edge already. Scott got chills. “But you should know, I’m a fantastic ping pong player.”

“I think I’ll be alright. You want to volley a bit for serve?” Clint and Steve stood by the sideline, intent on cheering for their personal champions.

“Come on, Wanda, beat his ass!” Clint said.

"I believe in you, Scott,” Steve deadpanned. Scott served him a glare.

“Sure, if you want to,” Wanda replied. She threw the ball and hit it, and Scott hit it, then back to Wanda, back to Scott, back to Wanda, back to Scott, who slapped the ball to make it leave the table.

“Oh!” Wanda exclaimed.

What a turn of events!

“Oh, by the way, um, I’m awesome,” Scott told her.

Wanda had daggers in her stare and Steve was gaping.

“This is going to be fun!” Clint said, clapping his hands.

“You ready to play?” Scott twirled his racket. Wanda got ready once more, saying, “Hell yeah.”

“Language,” Clint edged in, poking Steve’s side with his elbow, making Steve roll his eyes.

“Did you know this about him?” Steve asked him.

Clint shook his head and smiled. “No idea. I thought he was soft, like you.” Clint waited a moment before giggling to himself, despite the well-deserved punch he got.

“You wanna make it more interesting?” Scott asked Wanda.

“How much were you thinking?”

“Ten bucks a game.”

“Make it 50,” she challenged.

“I’ll make it a hundred,” he raised.

“One thousand –”

“Okay!” Clint interrupted, accompanied by Steve laughing.

“We’ll flip to see who goes first, uh, you got a quarter?” Scott offered.

“No. Either of you girls got a quarter?” Wanda asked their audience.

Steve searched for one as Clint said, “Wanda, try to focus the trash talk on him.”

“Wanda, you call it,” Steve announced as he prepared his quarter.

“Heads.” He flipped it. “No, tails!” He caught it. “No, head!”

“Tails,” Steve said.

“Oh, what are the chances?!” Wanda flailed her arms.

Scott served, and so they began to throw the ball back and forth. Wanda forcefully slapped the ball, sending it to Scott’s side of the room, and triumphantly yelled, “Ha! My point!”

“Oh, no, I don’t think so. No, according to standard table tennis rules, if at any time a player uses their non-racket-bearing hand to touch the playing surface, they forfeit the point.”

Wanda had, in fact, touched the table, and shamefully pulled it away.

“Was he a lawyer?” Steve asked Clint.

Wanda and Clint continued playing the ball.

  


It had been several minutes (more like twenty, but who’s counting), but Scott threw the ball from the table, to which Wanda reacted by raising her hands up and saying, “Oh, I’m sorry! I think – I _think_ that may have missed the table.”

“Oh, do you?” he mocked.

“Uh, yeah,” she retorted.

“Do you?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Do ya?”

“Uh, yeah!”

Clint whispered to Steve, “You really find this attractive on him?” Steve widened his eyes, and whispered back, “You know?”

“‘Course I know, I’m Hawkeye.”

“Well, in that case, yeah, definitely.”

“You have interesting likes.”

“Thank you.”

“Will you two grandmas stop gossiping about whatever it is old women talk about?” Wanda barked.

“Alright, come on, Scott, you can beat her!” Steve clapped, “Knock that rat off her head!”

Wanda and Scott played another service, where Scott struck the ball to make it fly to Wanda’s side of the room.

“Oh, damn it!” Wanda cursed

“That’s my champion!” Steve crowed. Scott spread his arms, basking in the small glory.

“Game point,” Scott announced.

“Don’t get too cocky. Remember, I won the last one. Oh, by the way, how did that feel losing to a girl?” Wanda threatened.

“You know, you should really look in the mirror before you call yourself that,” Scott countered.

She served another service, but Scott just threw the ball back at her.

“No! No! No!”

“And that’s how it’s done,” Scott announced, tapping the table with his racket. Steve went to clap him on the shoulder, which he accepted graciously.

“Okeydokey,” Clint began, “You’ve each won a game and I’ve lost what’s felt like a year of my life. So everybody goes home a winner.”

“Best out of three?” Wanda dared.

“That’s what I’m thinking,” Scott accepted.

“Huh, I guess being Hawkeye wasn’t so effective,” Steve teased Clint.

“Serve the ball, chump!” Wanda waved her arms.

“Serve the ball, chump!” Scott imitated her, getting ready to serve the ball.

“Okay, better comebacks, Scott, better comebacks,” Steve told him.

Wanda and Scott began playing their third round of ping pong.

  


It had been another four hours and a half. Clint and Steve finally found chairs to sit in. Clint was in a daze and Steve, being the good senior citizen he was, was practically dozing off already.

Wanda and Scott did not stop.

Her hair was a mess, she was covered in sweat, she had taken off her jacket a _long_ while ago. And Scott was no different: his hair stuck to his forehead, he could feel the sweat running down his back, and he was breathing heavily.

Wanda struck the ball and breathlessly laughed.

“Okay, so it’s tied again: 41-41.”

Clint slapped his face. “Okay, look, enough is enough!”

“No, I just have two more points to beat him,” Wanda argued.

“Wanda, that was also true an hour ago!” Clint got up, exasperated. “I mean, please, look at you! Your hand is blistered, you can barely stand, your hair is inexplicable! Okay, you’ve already proven you’re just as good as he is. Now, we’ve missed our dinner reservations, so now let’s go upstairs, order room service, have a sleepover, and shave your head!”

“I can’t just walk away. I’ve put in four hours,” Wanda lamented.

“But…”

“Look, you knew this about me when we had the father-daughter bonding time. You agreed to stick by me in sickness and in health. Well, this is my sickness!” Wanda readied herself for another serve.

“Why is everyone staring at me?”

“You just called the team bonding time we had several months ago, after the Sokovia event ‘father-daughter bonding time,’” Steve explained.

“No I didn’t, I said team bonding time, because it was in a team group,” Wanda tried to save face. Scott chuckled.

“Do you see me as a father-figure, Wanda?” Clint asked her.

“No! If anything, I see you as a _bother_ figure, ‘cause you’re always bothering me.”

“Hey, show your father some respect!” Steve teased.

“I didn’t call him father!” Wanda spread her arms, trying to talk some sense into them.

"I believe you,” Clint offered.

“Thank you.”

“Daughter.” That earned him a glare. He smiled at her. “You want to talk it over later during the sleepover?”

“Anything to get us playing one more service! But yes, I would like that!” She snapped at him.

She hit the ball, Scott hit it, she hit it, he hit it, she intended to slam her racket into the ball, but accidentally slammed her wrist into the side of the table.

“Ow!” she yelled as she let got of her racket and clutched her wrist. She let out a stifled moan and turned away, eyes bulging out in surprise.

“You okay?” Clint asked, reaching for her.

“No no no no, Clint, I’m okay. Alright, shake it off.” She shook her hand, immediately stopping and holding it again. “Oh, no shaking, no shaking!” She jumped in pain. She suddenly looked up in horror, claiming, “Oh my God, I can’t play!”

“So you forfeit?” Scott’s voice came out ragged and wheezy.

“Scott wins?” Steve asked.

“I can’t believe it,” Wanda said, genuinely surprised at the fact. “I lost.”

Clint looked at the table, then to Scott, then back to her, and put his hands on his hips. “No, you didn’t.”

“What?”

“Because I’m going to play for you.”

“You can’t do that,” Steve asserted.

“It’s okay. I don’t care which one of them I beat,” Scott reassured him.

Steve turned to him and said appreciatively, “You know, ping pong brings out a very interesting side to you.” Scott nodded knowingly.

“Clint, you don’t have to do this,” Wanda said.

“Yes, I do. Now, I may not understand why you have to win so badly, but if it’s important to you, then it’s important to me, because you’re my kid.”

“But, I don’t trust your ability to play.”

“You’re welcome, kid.” Wanda handed him the racket, and he got in position. “Alright, Tic Tac, let’s get this over with – sudden death! Whoever wins this point, wins.”

“Okay,” Scott nodded, and Clint served.

“Oh my God,” Wanda began, “You’re good!” Clint was actually playing like a pro.

“This is unexpected,” Steve said.

Clint and Scott hit the ball towards each other, until Clint struck it just so it could fly over Scott’s shoulder. He then tapped the table with the racket, proclaiming, “And that’s how it’s done!”

“Oh my God, oh my God!” Wanda repeated, getting up to hug Clint. “That was so amazing! Why didn’t you – hold on, I almost forgot.” She turned to Scott, and hooted, “Loser!” in his face. Steve clapped his shoulder comfortingly. “Why didn’t you tell me you could play?”

“You never told me you could play, either.”

“Oh. Well, this is so great! Now we can enter into doubles tournaments!”

“No.”

  


Wanda had gone to her room with her new dad trying to straighten out her hair. She was going to take a shower, but Clint wanted to detangle everything first. Sam entered the room, and Clint asked him, “Where have you been all day? Did you know that Wanda called me her dad?” Wanda slapped him.

Sam stepped inside, and began explaining, “I’ve been to all the seminars here. Barbados is hosting a paleontologist conference, so I wanted to know what it was all about. I learned a lot today. Wanda, you’re now officially part of the Barton clan. What did you guys do? Because you smell bad.”

Wanda rolled her eyes, but Clint just chuckled. When he stopped, he mentioned, “Hey, did you hear that?”

“Is that Steve?”

“Yeah, you can hear everything through these stupid walls,” Wanda answered.

Sam moved to the wall. “Sounds like he’s with someone.”

“He could be alone, this morning, when I was passing his room, I heard him do push-ups and then talk to his triceps,” Clint jokes.

“Wait a minute, I think Sam’s right,” Wanda said, getting off the bed and to the wall. The three of them pressed their ears against the wall. “Yeah, I hear someone else in there with him.”

What they heard was Steve asking Scott if he’d like to fondue now. Here? Yeah, why not? What if someone heard us? Don’t worry about that. Well, you’re very calm. I haven’t played tickle-tail since, well, ever. What the hell is playing tickle-tail, is that like, forties slang for sex. Yeah? Just stick to fondue, man.

“Oh my God, that’s Scott!” Wanda said, taking her ear off.

“Steve and Scott are going to have sex!” Sam exclaimed.

“Yeah, they’ve been into each other, for like, a while now,” Clint mentioned. Sam and Wanda turned to him, surprised. “You knew about this?” Wanda asked him.

“Of course I did, I’m Hawkeye.”

“Dude,” Sam slapped his chest.

  


Steve stepped closer into Scott’s space, placing his hands on his shoulders. Steve gazed into his eyes, and Scott felt very vulnerable, all of a sudden. He hasn’t felt like this about another person in years.

Steve smiled at him, and Scott couldn’t help but smile back. He placed his hands on his hips, drawing him closer.

“You think you can kiss me now?” Scott asked, playful tone making Steve laugh.

“Yeah, I think so,” Steve said, softly caressing his cheek before leaning in to finally kiss him. Scott could feel a shiver pass through his entire body before relaxing into Steve’s lips, finally able to feel how soft they were. Scott hugged him so that they were chest to chest, Steve’s hand running through his hair, the other playing at the small of his back.

Scott moaned, and Steve slipped his tongue into the small opening Scott made. Scott opened his mouth even more, getting a bit excited at how their make-out was panning out. It seems that Steve could also tell how excited he was, seeing as he broke apart to teasingly say, “Eager beaver, aren’t you?”

“Are you trying to kill the mood?” Scott murmured, grinding their hips together, which finally got Steve to redden. “There we go.”

“Are you going to fuck me standing up?” Steve asked. Scott closed his eyes and hastily pushed him to the bed, making Steve laugh. Well, that was pretty dumb, and he ended up laughing as well.

“Are you happy now?”

“Very,” Steve said, quickly getting rid of his shirt. Scott sat next to him, mesmerized by the way Steve’s supple body moved, his muscles rippling under the skin. He honestly felt his mouth watering at the sight, but he didn’t move until Steve, propped up on his elbows, asked him, “You gonna touch me?”

Scott snapped out of it, looking back up at Steve. He felt himself blush, and he nervously grinned. “Yeah, yeah. I just, um,” he wiped his mouth with his sleeve, then had enough mind to just get rid of his shirt altogether. He jumped a bit when he felt Steve’s hands on him, and tried to relax.

Steve sat up, worried now. “Are you okay?” He took his hands away, but Scott stopped him, holding his hands.

“Yeah, no, it’s just, I haven’t, I’m,” Scott stopped, breathed in, and began again, “I haven’t touched anyone like this in years. I’m a bit rusty, I’m sorry.”

Steve smiled at him and placed a kiss on his neck, getting Scott to let go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding in.

“It’s okay. I’ve been on the ice for several decades, I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between rusty or talented.”

Scott nodded, saying, “Well, it bodes well for me that you’re a virgin.” Steve gave him a nudge but pulled him down either way.

“You don’t know that.”

“Oh, honey, but I _do_ ,” Scott answered, making quick work of Steve’s fly, basking in the happy sounds that Steve made.

  


After fumbling to get their shoes off, and then their underwear, and then the painful trek of trying to find lube and basking in the glory of obtaining a bottle (borrowed from their front-door neighbors, who they’ll definitely repay later), Scott was finally able to accomplish his dream of fucking the American Dream.

His entire body hurt afterwards. He was sore, he was sweating, he felt hot all over. Steve turned towards him and decided to straddle him, rubbing their limp dicks together. Scott moaned, holding onto his waist. He can’t believe Steve is already ready to go, feeling his erection on his own dick waxing.

“Again?” Scott asked, still trying to catch his breath. He can’t remember ever having this much sex in a weekend, let alone in one day. It seems that this was another thing that neither college or high school prepared him for.

Steve cheekily grinned at him, leaning down to kiss him. “I’m a super soldier, my health is in perfect condition.”

“Well, so is mine, but I’m tired all over. You know, like a normal person is after going for four rounds,” Scott whined, but he still reached over to the nightstand to grab their something borrowed to squirt some on his hard dick. Steve sucked on his neck, leaving another dark dark bruise, only this time he decided to bite down on it, _hard_. Scott yelped, and Steve licked the pain away.

Steve reached down between them to stroke Scott’s length, looking down at him, enjoying the way that Scott squirmed and moaned.

“Well, Scott, the secret here is that I’m _not_ a normal person.” Scott bucked into his hand and Steve held himself up with the headboard. “Those scientists gave me a serum that made me better in every way, which included –” here he squeezed Scott, earning him a guttural moan, “–Slightly accelerated healing.”

“Steve, now that I know that you get off on dirty talk, I want you to get on my dick, and do the dirty talking to _me_ this time, yeah?” Scott asked, pupils blown wide. Steve laughed, but complied with Scott’s wishes.

  


Wanda didn’t sleep at all. Sam and Clint had left to go do “adult things,” which, while perfect for them two, meant that Wanda was left alone next door to the two rabbits who’ve been going at it for too long. She showered, and thankfully the water was loud enough to block them out, at least for a while.

The next morning, she went over to one of her new friends’ rooms, and asked if she could spend the rest of the day there. They didn’t ask questions, and let her sleep for as long as she wanted.

At lunch, she managed to find Sam at a table, and blearily made her way over. Sam looked too well-rested for someone who did a bit of rabbiting of his own.

“Good morning, Wanda!”

“Too many people having sex. Give me coffee,” she reached her hands out to him, and he chuckled while handing her his own cup.

“They take too much of your night?” Sam asked as Clint sat down with his own plate. “Clint, it appears that your daughter is subjected to many gross and unadulterated images.”

“Oh yeah?” Clint asked as he dug in to his food. “What gross images?”

“Everyone around me is having sex and I want it to stop,” Wanda said into her cup, to which the Birds laughed.

“Heh, and you want in on it too?” Clint asked around a biteful of chicken.

“Yeah,” Wanda nodded. Sam and Clint seem to have not taken her seriously. “Clint, I’m going back to your farm.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“What are you going to do, bang Clint’s sister?” Sam asked, incredulous. He can’t imagine Wanda doing anything like that.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” Wanda took another swig of her coffee, and got up. “Bye guys. Call me when the fight begins, yeah?” And with that, she left.

The Birds sat there.

“Huh.”

  


Some time later, Wanda sent a pic of herself arriving at the Barton farm to the groupchat. Some hours after that, she took a selfie of her with Laura – who was covering her face – and sent it with the caption, “Eat shit, dad.”

Steve personally called Clint to ensure that he did, in fact, eat shit, dad. Clint threw the fact that Captain America hooked up with _Ant-Man_ , of all superheroes, back in his face. In the groupchat. Scott sent a cryptic message, asking, “Can the Falcon make a damn good fondue?? Didn’t think so.”

  


Even after heckling each other, the team still stayed together, and the pairs within were even closer.


End file.
